Chapter 4

Four

North

FUCK.

I can’t believe I’m kissing this girl.

Grace.

She tastes like her name suggests. Innocent, delicious, like she could save me.

Can’t get enough of her. I’m plastering her to the car, being too rough, but I can’t help it. She made my cock so stiff with all of her sweet touches and whispers in my ear, it’s a wonder I’m not banging her like a depraved criminal on the hood of my car. But no…no. Control yourself. Grace is classy. A good girl. Don’t think about how tight she would be. Don’t think about how her blue eyes lit up with aroused wonder when I told her I’d be stopping to hump the passenger seat on the way home tonight.

Because God knows, I’m not going to be humping her.

No fucking way.

I’m hanging by a thread where she’s concerned. My sanity, my hunger. I don’t know what the hell this girl is doing to me, but it feels irreversible. And if I sunk my dick between her gorgeous thighs and popped that cherry—I know damn well she’s still got it—she wouldn’t be able to keep my away with a restraining order. Hell, an army.

I lick into the warm cave of her mouth, groans issuing from our chests at the meeting of our tongues, the excited way they mate, my fingers plunging into her hair to hold her steady while I fuck that perfect little mouth. God. Goddamn. She’s letting me go for broke, slanting my head and taking her lips roughly from an angle. All while her belly writhes against my rigid cock, hot whimpers making me want to feast all the more thoroughly. So I can taste those sounds. So I can absorb them into my fucking blood.

We kiss wet. Messy.

It’s burning me alive.

How she doesn’t care about anything but getting more, not shy about opening her mouth and inviting me deeper, her head falling back against the side of my car. She slaps my shoulders and breaks for air, eyes glazed with need, then starts to tug me back to continue making out. I’m not letting this opportunity pass, though. Perhaps my one and only opportunity to taste her everywhere. If she cuts me off after this, I need memories.

Kissing her hard on the mouth once, I rake my lips down to her neck and scrape my teeth there, tonguing the spot in apology, in worship, opening wide to lick and kiss as much of her softness as possible. It’s impossible, beyond my capabilities, to keep from looking down the low neckline of her dress to those sexy tits. My mouth waters with the need to suck them, taste them, and as if she read my mind, she arches her back until those sweet mounds almost pop free.

Jesus. She is the sexiest girl on this planet. No question. Perfect, perfect angel who needs pleasure, needs treasuring. What if her pleasure could be my job? It’s an insane notion, but…what if? I must be looking at her with that question on my face, because she responds. “Yes,” is all the whispers—and then I’m groaning, sucking her nipples through the silky material of her dress, dragging my teeth over their peaks. “Oh m-my God,” she heaves in a strangled whisper. “North.”

“Can I suck them bare, beauty?” She nods frantically and my hands shake, peeling down the flimsy material until her rosy nipples are right there, straining, making my cock so hard, I have to squeeze my eyes closed and concentrate on not coming. “Jesus, you’re so goddamn beautiful. Can’t believe you’re letting me touch you. Can’t believe it.”

With a growl, I latch on to one of her nipples, drawing on it hungrily. Lapping at it with dirty grunts, circling that pebbled bud over and over until she’s wiggling in frustration between me and the car. I mold the other one in my palm, licking left to give it equal attention, looking her in the eyes while lapping, lapping at it over and over again.

“More. I n-need more,” she gasps, pulling at my hair, her body bowed against the side of the car, demanding I service her tits. Demanding my mouth. More. I know she wants more.

Know damn well she needs to be orgasmed.

Give her your cock.

I could do it. Pump it home nice and easy.

She’s horny enough.

I was foolish to think we could stop at kissing. We’re like kerosene and a match. She’s the flame and I’m the accelerant, building her need higher with strokes of my tongue in her gorgeous mouth—and she’s doing the same to me. Her whimpers are driving me out of my fucking mind. The only thing keeping me from yanking her legs up around my hips and driving into her virgin pussy is the fear that she’ll drop me afterward for taking it too far when I know better. When she trusted me to get her home safe. I’m the experienced one.

Or she’ll try to drop me—and there I’ll be, pining for her like an obsessive maniac. Unable to stop. Fuck, I’m already there. Aren’t I?

Can feel myself slipping, falling, into something that’s going to gut me.

And I go eagerly.

“You want more, beauty?” I hum against her ear. “If you let me put my fingers down the front of your panties, I’ll finger your tight, wet cunt. My baby want it?”

She sobs in response to my question—loudly—and I barely cover her mouth in time with mine before the sound echoes down the block. Her eyes are unfocused, but she nods, nods.

“Yes?” I say, taking my hand away slowly. “Yes, I want my cunt fingered?” Her nod is emphatic. And I watch in astonishment as she takes my hand from her tit and guides it down the front of her body, tucking it just beneath the hem of her dress. “You’re going to be the death of me, Gracie.”

I cup her pussy for the first time.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathe.

She’s full and soft and soaked. Straight through her little cotton panties.

Once that discovery is made, there’s no stopping me from ripping the underwear down, needing to get to the precious flesh underneath, leaving the material bunched mid-thigh. Ahhh shit, and then I’m dragging my middle finger up and back, lightly, through the split of her velvet pussy, gathering moisture as I go. Grinding my back teeth to keep from shouting to the world how perfect she is. “Bet this is tight as a motherfucker, ain’t it?”

And she might be innocent, but I bring something new out of her.

Something hot and excited and eager to explore.

“Find out,” she whispers.

Oh yeah. I’m a goner. She’s got me by the fucking stones.

Looking her right in the eye, I press my middle finger good and deep, her cool exhale bathing my face, those eyes growing even more unfocused. “I…N-North?”

I can barely respond I’m so overcome by the tight squeeze of her. She’s tiny between her thighs. Narrow, hot, virginal. My cock would make her scream. “Yes, Gracie,” I say thickly.

She makes a frustrated sound, her teeth sinking into the full bottom lip. “Why does it feel so good and so bad at the same time?”

If I needed any further proof that she’s untouched, she just gave it to me. But I don’t need it. I only need to give her pleasure. That becomes my driving force, right here on this street lined with multi-million-dollar townhomes. I can’t give her a life like this, but I can make her pussy better. I can damn well do that.

“You need an orgasm, beauty. Keep your thighs open so I can give it to you.”

Gritting my teeth, I add a second finger, her sex making a hot little suctioning sound as I pump them in and out, finding her clit with the heel of my hand, grinding on it lightly. And her eyes go wide, my name tripping over her lips in a whimper. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” My breath is rasping in and out. I’m so horny for Grace, I’m almost dizzy, my dick pounding with excess blood flow in my pants. I’m never going to get enough of her. I thought sex would seal the deal and make me possessive, obsessive, but the deal is already done, isn’t it? I never had a chance. “You need this pussy satisfied, you come down to Southie and get it from North. I’m open twenty-four hours for you, Gracie. Knock on my door and flash me these innocent, wet panties and I’ll know just what to do, won’t I?”

She makes a breathy sound, her bare tits heaving, and then the moaning starts. The hottest sound that has ever graced my ears. But out of fear of getting caught and separated from Grace, I drop my mouth over hers to capture the sounds, just as she comes in the palm of my hand. It’s the filthiest little orgasm from the most innocent girl. It steals my remaining breath. The way she grabs my hand, grinding down on it, rocking her hips and continuing to bury her tongue in my mouth, over and over, until I’m dripping semen down the leg of my sweatpants, her moan flavoring my throat.

“Can I lick it up?” I ask raggedly, breaking for air, already dropping to my knees. “Please?”

When I shove my face up beneath her dress, catching the moisture as it drips from her cunt, she whimpers and twists her fingers in my hair. “Yes. Yes.” She wraps one thigh around my head to give me better access and I worship her for it, worship her for letting me lap at her inner thighs like a thirsty animal—and maybe that’s what I am. A poor man licking up drops of gold from the rich girl. Taking anything he can get.

Finally, I’ve tasted every last drop and I walk forward, wrapping my arms around her hips, burrowing my cheek against her stomach. My cock is so full and heavy, it’s almost touching the ground, but I’m not burdening her with that. She’s given me enough. I’ve got the memory of her taste, the sound of her moaning for me, the feel of her mouth on mine. It’s more than a man like me could ever ask for.

A beep goes off somewhere inside the car and she whispers. “That’s my alarm for one a.m.” She slides down against the side of the car, so she’s crouching in front of the fighter she brought to his knees, physically and emotionally and every other way imaginable. Her mouth finds mine in a kiss that leaves our eyelids heavy. “You’ll still…call me?”

Stunned by my luck, I repeat her number back to her hoarsely.

She bites her lip to subdue a smile, collects her things from my car and disappears into what can only be described as a palace. Out of my reach in every way except for one.

Sex.

Is that going to be enough for me?

No.

Hell no it won’t. But what choice do I have?

Look at where she lives, this senior class president. This angel.

I climb to my feet and prop my hands on top of my Chevy, watching as the light goes on upstairs and she appears in front of the window. She stands there, watching me for a moment, then lets her dress drop, leaving her topless, the top of her panties visible over the sill.

Jesus. Jesus. I’ve just seen her tits up close, but there’s something about this that feels like permission. And I take it, blindly reclining the passenger seat, making as much room as I can in the footwell. Then I prop one foot outside the car, one inside, and fit my hips to the edge of the seat, sucking down her cherry cola scent and fucking the leather cushion violently. The car rocks and groans with every thrust of my hips, but I can’t stop. I watch her play with her nipples through the rear window, my thrusts accelerating until I come with a choked noise, right where she sat, right where those ass cheeks parted and her pussy plumped. Drenching the front of my sweatpants.

When I open my eyes again, her light upstairs is out.

And I drive home slowly, the obsession taking deeper and deeper hold.

No bottom in sight.